


you make me a believer.

by cactsu



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 10:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11849832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cactsu/pseuds/cactsu
Summary: shane's last relationship came to a rather rough end. he vows to never fall in love again.then he meets ryan bergara, the cute owner of a nearby flower shop. he wonders if falling for someone again is worth it.





	you make me a believer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the [ red anemone](https://www.ftd.com/blog/content/uploads/2016/10/hero-anemone-meaning-720x500.jpg) flower indicates death, fading hope, and a feeling of having been forsaken. on a positive note, it symbolizes anticipation and excitement for something in the future.

Shane never believed in zombies.

Sure, the possibility of them being a thing was substantially larger than that of _ghosts_ , but if he came across anyone speaking seriously about some impending “zombie apocalypse”, he’d just think they were more on the cuckoo side and steer clear.

Funny how he practically became one after Sara died.

It was the same routine every day. Wake up alone. Brush your teeth and wash your face alone. Get dressed… alone. Don’t bother eating a real breakfast because your appetite has all but packed its bags and skipped town. String cheese’ll do.

Sara loved string cheese for breakfast.

Work was work. They’d allowed him a two-week window to grieve and clear his mind before returning, but he was already back at his desk three days after she’d passed. They’d insisted that he take a real break as to not wear himself down. He’d rebutted that he was fine (though his glassy, unfocused eyes and flat tone of voice suggested otherwise). At that, they stopped bothering him.

People gave their condolences, to which he would reply with a stale “it’s fine, I’m fine, thanks,” or some variation of it. Conversation with him was incredibly short. His attention span was even shorter. The only thing that could dull his brain enough to focus on was his work, file after file of spreadsheets and financial reports. It certainly wasn’t fun in the slightest, but it was comfortably numbing, and he would be so spaced out that the day would be over before he knew it. He would return home to an empty apartment, sit around watching Netflix, then go to bed, wishing she was by his side. Sometimes he’d manage to convince himself that she was, her small frame spooning him from behind. He wouldn’t allow himself to believe that she was there; as much as he wanted to, he knew ghosts weren’t real. She was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He wanted to believe that things would turn up, he really, really did. But at this point, it seemed just as impossible as the existence of ghosts and zombies, and for a skeptic like Shane, that was saying a lot.

 

* * *

 

_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._

Shane groaned, reaching for the alarm clock and hitting the ‘off’ button. The sun shone, unnecessarily bright, through the blinds of his window; he threw a gangly arm over his eyes and grunted in protest. His initial thought was “yay, another routine day”. But then he remembered.

Unfortunately, this day was different. It was the day of Sara’s funeral, and Shane wasn’t looking forward to it. He sighed, heart suddenly very heavy in his chest, and slowly but surely got up to get ready.

He wasn’t a morning shower guy, but he figured that it was a good idea for such an occasion. He stood in the shower for a while, the hot water easing some of the tension in his muscles. Too bad it couldn’t help the one muscle that needed the most relief, but hey, he’ll take what he can get.

Finally out of the shower and fully dressed, he picked up his phone from his bedside table and opened the browser. He’d forgotten to pick up flowers yesterday after work; he didn’t do much if it wasn’t part of his routine, but this was pretty important. He typed “flower shops near me” and pressed enter. L.A. Floral was the nearest one, and had good Yelp reviews. That’ll do. He made his way into the living room and grabbed his car keys, giving his apartment a quick once-over before stepping out into the real world.

The shop was only about 3 miles away from his apartment complex, and had apparently just opened, seeing as there was only one other car in the parking lot. Shane braced himself for unwanted human interaction before stepping out of his own haven. As he opened the door to the shop, a bell in the top corner of the door frame rang a cheery little tune that conflicted greatly with Shane’s mood. He looked around at the flora, not seeing anyone who would give him service. He scratched the back of his head and huffed exasperatedly before a voice called out from somewhere in the back of the store.

“I’ll be right with you, just a second!”

Shane didn’t bother responding to the cheerful voice as he made his way to the counter and waited patiently. He could hear shuffling from the back room, and at one point, he heard the person swear a couple of times. He’d just started to lightly tap his fingertips against the countertop when the door finally swung open.

Shane called bullshit on a lot of things. Love at first sight was one of them. But he wasn’t going to deny that the man that came into view was incredibly attractive as his chocolate eyes met Shane’s own hazel ones.

He was significantly shorter than Shane, maybe about six inches, and wore black ripped jeans, a plain white t-shirt— which wasn’t so plain white, as it was stained with dirt and pollen— and a small, pastel blue apron. His body was tan, toned, and fit; it was very clear that he worked out. His dark hair was pushed back to avoid touching his face. Shane glanced at the gold-and-black nametag pinned to his apron; it read “Ryan”.

“Hi! Can I help you this morning?”

Shane swallowed, throat drier than he’d remembered. “Yeah, uh, I’ll take a bouquet of four anemones, four white roses, and four pink peonies.”

Ryan, now standing behind the counter, nodded with a small smile. “Interesting combination. Doing something nice for the special someone?”

“You… you could say that.” By the time he was done speaking, the shorter man was already moving from behind the counter and darting around the store, putting the bouquet together with both impressive speed and elegant care. It was… hypnotizing.

“Did you want a specific color for the anemones?”

Ryan’s voice snapped Shane out of his daze. “Oh, yeah, um, red, please.”

Bouquet in hand, Ryan was back at the counter, punching the numbers into the cash register. “Alrighty, that’ll be $15.48.”

Shane reached into his pocket and retrieved his wallet, pulling out a single bill. “Here’s a twenty. You can keep the change as a tip.” He smiled halfheartedly as he held out the currency.

Ryan paused, gazing at the twenty-dollar bill for a moment before lifting his eyes to meet Shane’s with a perplexed expression. “Wait… really?”

“Well, yeah. Your service is pretty good. A tip wouldn’t hurt.” Shane shrugged.

“Oh, well… thank you.” A light blush tinged Ryan’s cheeks as he grabbed the dollar bill and turned back to the register. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I literally never get tips. Maybe once every blue moon. So it just sort of caught me off guard, I guess.” He chuckled shyly.

“Nah, I get it, you’re good,” Shane replied, giving his all in sincerity and trying for a less halfhearted, more genuine smile. Though it was small, it had apparently worked; Ryan returned the smile before handing Shane the flowers. “Ah, thank you.”

“No problem. Have a good day!”

 _Don’t count on it._ “Thanks, you too.”

 

* * *

 

He didn’t have a good day.

Throughout the ceremony, his only thoughts were “This isn’t real, please make me wake up, this is a nightmare, she can’t be gone, please, please come back”.

The minister turned to him and asked him if he wanted to speak. He shook his head. No, no, he didn’t want to speak. Speaking wouldn’t bring her back. The minister nodded with a sad, understanding expression and went on to finish the ceremony.  

He hadn’t spoken much in general throughout the day; he only nodded when friends and family gave their shared sympathies. He didn’t want to talk, if he was honest. He feared that talking would break the dam. If there was anyone he wanted to talk to, it was Sara. So, once everyone had left, he stayed behind, sitting on the ground and picking at the grass with his eyes downcast. He was a very tall man, but he’d never felt smaller.

“Things aren’t great without you here. Everyone asks if I’m doing okay, and I say I am. I’m… I’m not really. But I know you’d want me to, so I’m trying my best. It would just be a whole lot easier if you hadn’t left.” He paused in thought before continuing. “But I don’t blame you… I _obviously_ don’t blame you. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t really the guy’s fault, either. Though it really shouldn’t be that hard to keep your brakes in check…” He mumbled the last part before shaking his head, trying to clear his mind. “But accidents happen. It was an _accident_. Placing the blame on anyone won’t help, or bring you back. But if it could, I would.”

The sound of thunder rolling in the distance cut him off before he could continue. He looked up from the shreds of grass between his fingers and towards the sky, which was now darkening with gray rainclouds. He sighed before lowering his gaze back to his hands.

“Well, I oughtta get going. A storm’s coming in, and I wouldn’t say that getting caught in the rain would make this day any better.” He slowly rose from the ground, grunting uncomfortably as his joints cracked from the effort. He gazed at her tombstone for a moment, tears threatening to breach his eyelids in hot, heavy streams; he wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands before they could do so. Eyes now painfully red and arms resting limply at his sides, he took a sharp, shaky inhale before speaking again.

“I love you. I miss you. Please rest peacefully, beautiful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, full disclosure- I FUCKING LOVE SARA. this isn't me trying to like, kill her off, oh my gosh. i love her so much. and her and shane are the cutest. i mean, have you SEEN them on their instagram accounts. fuck's sake.  
> i just felt inspired and wanted to write a more sad/angsty, chaptered fic. i'm mostly a one-shot gal, but i wanted to give it a shot. please do let me know what you guys think so far! comments and kudos are incredibly appreciated <3  
> you can find me [ here](https://51wheezes.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


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